46 pages • 1 hour read
Nathan HillA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The narrative returns to 2011 with Samuel meeting his mother. The meeting is awkward, although Faye’s lawyer tries to keep the focus on Faye’s legal dilemma. Faye defends throwing rocks at the governor as a “necessary and essential and knee-jerk response to the governor’s fascistic politics” (199). She faces numerous charges, and the lawyer asks Samuel about writing a letter in her support. Samuel, however, demurs. He asks his mother, “Why did you leave me?” (206). Faye cannot tell him: “It’s private” (207). Samuel storms out of the meeting: “You are a virtuoso,” he yells at her, “A maestro at being awful” (208).
Meanwhile Laura Pottsdam dreads her approaching meeting with the Dean over her trumped-up complaint about Samuel. She is struggling in all her classes; they seem silly and pointless. She much prefers spending hours wandering the mall with her friends who are equally shallow; texting risqué pictures to her boyfriend; or simply drifting off into uncomplicated daydreams.
Samuel agrees to have lunch with a video gamer, who goes by the name Pwnage, whose expertise in the game world of Elfscape impresses Samuel. Together in a diner booth the two commiserate over the importance of the virtual reality world and how by comparison the real world seemed dull and uninviting, how as game characters they touch genuine heroics because in the game world, unlike the real world, effort is rewarded: “In the face of something like that,” Pwnage says, “I’d say sinking into Elfscape is a pretty sane response” (227). Pwnage admits that he struggles with his weight and that his wife left him some time ago without warning: “That would never happen in a video game” (228). When Samuel confides in him about his mother, Pwnage expounds on what gaming teaches him: People are either “an enemy, obstacle, puzzle, or trap” (231). The template intrigues Samuel, but which, he wonders, is his mother?
Samuel understands that as part of his research for the book on his mother he needs to go to Iowa, to his parents’ hometown, to talk with his grandfather, Frank, Faye’s father. Once there, he wanders about the small Iowa town, taking pictures of the high school where his mother went and the ChemStar factory where his grandfather worked. He finds Frank wasting away in Willow Glen Nursing Home. Samuel finds that although Frank’s memory is cloudy, he recalls with clarity growing up in Hammerfest, a Norwegian fishing village, and later his time as a chemical engineer at ChemStar. When Samuel presses him about the circumstances surrounding Faye’s brief time in college in 1968, Frank, dopey on medications, appears to slip back into time and reenacts his angry eviction of his daughter for being unmarried and pregnant. Frank tells Samuel that although he has had nothing to do with Faye, he stored boxes of her stuff—homework assignments, diaries, letters—on the grounds of the nursing home.
Samuel lugs all the boxes to his car. He calls his father, Henry, and demands he tell him the truth about Faye. Henry tells Samuel only that Frank is wrong, that Faye was not pregnant at all, and agrees to meet Samuel: “A new world,” Samuel feels, “is about to open” (253).
At the center of the narrative’s return to 2011 is master gamer Pwnage’s lengthy disquisition on the implications of the game world, the vast and intricate virtual reality created since the 1990s by video gaming and inhabited now by a generation who finds within that simulated playscape a world that eclipses the real-time world and makes it seem sordid, ordinary, and lacking any metric for success and achievement.
We never know Pwnage’s real name—Pwnage is his game character’s name, suggesting that he has lost his identity within the world of slaying dragons, pillaging villages, and stealing chests of gold. Hill was born in the mid-1970s and hence part of the threshold generation that came of age just as computers, the Internet, social media, and video games were beginning to emerge. Hill casts a worried eye on this emerging generation and its casual embrace of faux-reality: “Elfscape,” he tells a skeptical Samuel, “can actually teach us a lot about living” (230). Pwnage’s life, we see, is a mess. His apartment is cluttered; he is troublingly obese; and he is wasting his intellectual muscle thinking of great books he will never read. He is alone: His wife left him, we suppose (because Pwnage does not share this with Samuel) because of his addiction to alternate realities.
The result of such a generational predisposition to drift and escape is Laura Pottsdam, whose unfolding story is paralleled in this part of the novel: She is perpetually bored by her own life and mistakes that boredom for insight. More disturbingly, as she compulsively lies about herself and her class with Samuel, she cannot in the end distinguish right from wrong, real from fake.
For now, what we notice is that Samuel, himself an amateur gamer who seeks within the refuge of the virtual world comfort and escape from his own thin and uneventful life, is so intrigued by Pwnage’s template for evaluating (and defining) people: Within the clean and easy rules of the game world, people/characters are either enemies, puzzles, traps, or obstacles. The either/or concept works only within the dimensions of a video game. The model, however, simplifies human behavior and leaves no possibility save the logic of keeping others at a clean and safe distance: “Everyone you meet,” Pwnage says confidently, “is one of those four things” (231).